


The Seeker's Compassion

by PandoraKarp



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Cassandra being a romantic, F/M, Friendship, Light Angst, Meddling Kids, Mischief, Orlais
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandoraKarp/pseuds/PandoraKarp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra is disgruntled at the terms for attending the Orlesian Ball, but she is duty bound to her trusted friend the Inquisitor to protect their interests. Yet there might be more she can assist Adaar with than simple guard duty...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seeker's Compassion

An evening spent in a palace that wasn’t host to the spirits of the Fade was a drastic improvement, even if it meant sacrificing the security of the Inquisitor by dropping the giant Qunari woman into a ballroom full of eccentric Orlesian nobles. Or so Cassandra thought to herself as she mentally prepared for all the possible assassination scenarios she could think of. The Seeker grimaced at how useless she felt, no arms _in_ the ballroom was a dangerous agreement she hadn’t wanted to accept. Period. Lady Montilyet and the Empress of Orlais, however, did not share the sentiment. Such was the decision that led to her form being swathed in a fine blue gown instead of the near impenetrable garb of the soldier she really was. 

The way the Inquisitor’s face had drawn up at _that_ even made her own mood dourer. _‘With the world falling apart at the seams, who is anyone to judge weakness by the fabric of someone else’s clothing?’_ Cassandra made a mental not to properly apologize later. She had not meant any offense, before the soldier even she was born into privilege. The Seeker couldn’t even imagine what the life for a Qunari outside of the Qun must have been like when all the world ever saw were the zealots of Parvollen. Even Iron Bull tread around her like she was a feral animal who would take the first chance to snap at him if he took his eyes off her. Though whether that is due to her upbringing or her powers over the Fade, Cassandra couldn’t quite wager an answer. 

…It would probably be best not to mention the Mercenary in her apology either. Cassandra did not go out of her way to delve into her companion’s affairs, least of all her leader’s. Yet even she could see the damage the affair between the Bull and The Inquisitor had wrought. Adaar had spoken of it to her once, stalwart expression never faltering and words so soft she barely heard them over the firewood collapsing in the hearth. That night with all laid bare between them she had vowed to take everything with her to the grave. 

Cassandra pressed the mask to her face and prayed to the Maker that it covered her surely ashen face. The giant Qunari next to her huffed quietly, like the impatient bull she hoped was his namesake. “Surprise be damned Seeker, if Adaar never even makes it into the ballroom then I will hold a grudge against you and Vivienne for the rest of my days.” The woman glared up at the mercenary, who by all rights should have been the last person at this Ball. But blast it all if Cassandra didn’t have the heart of a bleeding romantic and a deep seated desire to see her friends happy. Both of them. “Bull, you could not have come dressed in anything else and for that I apologize, but if you so much as take a step out of this room I will gut you with a hairpin.” In retrospect, Cassandra was not at all convinced any of the forsaken things would hold up long enough to get the job done. If the Inquisitor didn’t gut her first, she surmised. 

Iron Bull chuckled quietly beside her before he stepped away from the wall and moved to part the sea of twirling ball gowns and scandalized nobles. Cassandra followed after him, apologizing to a wayward male for stepping on their foot. “Bull, what are you doing? You can’t just walk across the floor during a dance!” The mercenary only looked back at her long enough for his face to morph into an expression that only conveyed mischief. “Why Seeker, I’m going invite our fair Inquisitor to dance like I’m supposed to.” She looked to the stairs and caught a familiar pair of horns in her gaze. Cassandra slowed her pace and stopped when the dance finally did, rudely interrupted by the giant Qunari still barging directly though. She felt safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one gawking. 

The Inquisitor stepped down the tiers of the stairwell with the poise of a woman commanding attention. Head held high and stepping with a grace Cassandra had never considered the Qunari woman possible of possessing. If she had not seen the garments earlier she was sure it would be more than the anticipation catching her breath in that stretch of silence as she waited for Iron Bull to reach the landing of the other’s descent. Watching with bated breath for the surprise to register across her the Kossith’s face. It never does. Adaar stops one level from the ballroom floor where Iron Bull stands and the Seeker almost crumbles at the same time she sees the look of defeat wash across the proud woman’s face. Was she not even willing to give it a chance? 

The Bull bowed and extended his hand, probably butchering the lines all of the companions had suggested to him into one horridly uncouth invitation to dance. Even going as far as telling her that _‘No, lass, getting lost on your way here is not an acceptable excuse for keeping me waiting.’_ The Seeker’s thoughts were a long streamline of the different ways to call one a fool. Her distress washed away as The Inquisitor took her partner’s awaiting hand, more timidly and cautious than the Seeker was happy with but she supposed the wound wasn’t going to simply vanish after one rare evening of peace. The tension waned tremendously as the both of them joined the throng of people starting up the festivities again. The rhythm much more subdued than before. Cassandra moved back to her spot safe from being hit by any of the couples dancing. After all only half of the job was done and she still had to keep watch for danger. 

“The Inquisitor said it was a nice surprise, Seeker.” Cassandra blinked and looked down at Cole. Maker knows she stopped asking how he did what he did, she didn’t want to know. “Thank you Cole, find anything amiss?” The boy shook his head and was gone in the next second. “Good then…this evening might go well for a change.” __

**Author's Note:**

> It goes to show how excited I am for this game that I've written a story for it.  
> It's pretty fluffy, but I was really inspired by the idea of Cassandra looking out for the Inquisitor with her cute closet romantic ideas. Essentially Cassandra is the best girlfriend. Period.


End file.
